


Its the Little Things

by Some1FoundMe



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:51:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Some1FoundMe/pseuds/Some1FoundMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots and drabbles based on random prompts.  Olicity.  Anything up to 3x23 “I Am Oliver Queen”.  Cross-posted from ff.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: So these tidbits are coming from prompts in a journal that I purchased a few weeks ago. It’s a compilation by the San Francisco Writers’ Grotto called “642 Things to Write About”. Some of these are totally random and obscure but they’re fun. I’m not taking prompts at this time, but if I change my mind, I’ll post a note. Enjoy!

**Prompt: Start a story with “This is what she wants most in the world”**

“This is what she wants most in the world.”

The words are spoken softly, a hint of wonder mixed with quiet fear.

“How do you know?”

He sighs, “Look at her, John.  I can see it in her eyes every time she has your daughter in her arms.  She wants this.  A life.  A family.”

“And you don’t?”

“It isn’t that.  I don’t know how to do it.  I don’t –“

“You do it _with her_ , Oliver.  You and Felicity, you’re a team.  You have been for a long time, long before Ras and this mess with the League.  You make your life together and you love your kids with everything that you have.”

“What if it’s not enough?”

“It will be.  Is this what you want?  A life?  A family?  A piece of you and a piece of her?  Because you can have it, man.  It’s right there.  You just have to take it.”

A long silence stretches between them.

“We found out last night.  She’s pregnant.”

“And?”

“I’m scared, John.  But I’m… I’m happy.  She’s happy.”

“You’ve lived through hell, Oliver, but being a parent is the most challenging thing you’ll ever face.  But it is worth every moment and more.  You’ll be okay.  She’ll make sure of it.”


	2. Nape

**Prompt: The nape of her husband’s neck**

Her fingers dance across the muscle there, stiff with tension, and she works at the knot.  His body is heavy, pressing her into the mattress, but she won’t complain.

He is exhausted, rightly so, and she knows that he finds comfort in lying with her.  With his face pressed to the curve of her shoulder, his groan is muffled against her skin.  She hears it though, feels it, and applies steady pressure at the nape of her husband’s neck, hoping to chase away the tension.

His lips move against her, the stubble on his jaw scraping, and she squirms.  Her fingers administer a few more therapeutic strokes before sliding into his short hair.  Her blunt nails scratch his scalp.

“Better?”

He hums an affirmation and she presses her lips to his temple.  His breathing is slow and even , his heart drum as it beats against her chest, and she closes her eyes, ready to succumb to sleep.

His words, still muffled, barely reach her ears.

“Love you.”


	3. Roommate

**Prompt:  The long lost roommate.**

“Felicity?”

She stops on her way out of the small boutique, her feet freezing on the sidewalk so suddenly that Oliver nearly collides with her back.  His arms are laden down with their purchases and he somehow manages to avoid a collision and not drop a single bag. 

The voice calling her name sends a rush of familiar warmth skittering across her skin.  Her eyes lock on a woman not three feet away.  They are the same height but beyond that, they share no physical similarities.  Her dark hair is cut in a pixie that gives her a little bit of an edgy vibe and her big green eyes are full of surprise.  Felicity is sure that her own expression is a mirror image.

“Andi!”

She closes the distance between them and throws her arms around the other woman, her husband all but forgotten.

“Oh my god, look at you, Smoak!” Andi holds her at arm’s length and does just that, “Oh my god.”

Her friend’s eyes linger on the swell of her stomach and Felicity’s hands drift there naturally. 

“Right?” she laughs, “Who would have thought I’d be a mom, like, ever?”

Andi shakes her head, her still-wide eyes lifting back to meet her blue.  She has a kind smile on her face, one that Felicity has missed for years, and it causes her chest to tighten.

“I always knew you would be.  You mothered all of us, Smoak, it just makes sense you’d have kids of your own someday.”

She shrugs, her cheeks beginning to ache from the grin that seems stuck on her face, and glances over her shoulder at Oliver.  He hasn’t said a word but his eyes have not once strayed from her.  She can feel him behind her, his presence a reassurance.  He’s guarding her, the way he always does, and she waves him forward.

“Andi, this is my husband, Oliver.  Oliver, this is Andrea McGregor.  She was my roommate at MIT.  One of them, anyway.”

Andrea and Oliver shake hands, each of them smiling even though she knows that they’re both sizing the other up.  She rolls her eyes but neither of them seems to notice.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Oliver says kindly, genuinely, “Felicity doesn’t talk much about school but whenever she does, you’re always involved.  I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Andi laughs, “Oh god, that’s a terrifying thought!  I wasn’t exactly a great role model back then.  Although, neither was this one, so…”

Felicity rolls her eyes again even as Oliver slides one arm around her, bags from the boutique still hanging from his wrist.  She leans into him.

“He knows all of that and loves me anyway,” she tells her friend, her smile softening as she tips her head up to look into her husband’s handsome face.

“What’s not to love?” Andi asks, making Oliver chuckle.

“What are you doing in Starling City?” Felicity asks her, cheeks warm, “Last I heard, you were working for some conglomerate overseas, overhauling their internet security protocols or something.”

Andi shrugs, “Just passing through.  The job in Bangkok finished and I figured I’d take a few weeks off before starting my next project.  I’m staying in town for a couple of nights, I took a quick job for a local company that I should be finished with by Thursday.  We should have dinner.  Really catch up.”

A phone rings and Andi pulls her mobile from her pocket.  She frowns at the screen.

“I’m sorry, it’s one of my techs.  I’ve got to go.”

She pulls Felicity in for another quick hug.

“You sure as hell know how to pick ‘em, Smoak.  Your husband is hot,” she whispers before stepping away.

Felicity knows her cheeks are flushed but she just laughs.

“Thanks, Andi.  Call me when you have time for dinner.  My schedule is pretty flexible these days.”

They say goodbye and she remains at Oliver’s side as they watch Andi climb onto a sleek black motorcycle parked down the street.  The engine revs and then she’s gone, disappearing around a corner.

Oliver’s arm around her waist tightens.

“Did that seem odd to you?” Felicity asks him, still staring at the spot where her friend had vanished from.

“She wasn’t being honest,” he confirms, “Not exactly.  How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

She shrugs, “Years.  Right after I graduated, she flew out here on her way to Bangkok the first time.  We exchange emails every few months, just to catch up, but I haven’t seen her in a long time.  We were close, once.  She was the closest thing I ever had to a sister.  But then she went to Thailand and… and everything changed.  She changed.”

He nodded, tugging her even closer to his hard body.

“Let’s get back.  I think maybe you should check up on who Andrea McGregor has become in the past few years.  Something about her seems off.”

A/N: At this time, I have no intention of making this into its own story.  This little tidbit just sort of came to me based on the prompt.  Doesn’t mean it won’t happen, just means it isn’t happening right now.


	4. Cop car

**Prompt:  Your friend calls to say she saw you in the back of a police car yesterday.  What happened?**

She sighs and holds the phone away from her ear.  Across from her, Oliver sits with a smug grin on his face.  He can hear Caitlin loud and clear through the tiny speaker.

“Caitlin, I swear, everything is fine.  It was just a big misunderstanding.”

“But you were in the back of a cop car, Felicity!  It was on the news last night.  The video’s gone viral!”

She scrubs her free hand through her hair, glaring at the man across from her.

“I know.  Don’t worry about it.  I’ve already taken it down.”

Caitlin’s exasperation is evident in her tone and Felicity can’t help but flinch a little.  It’s like being scolded by a parent.

“It doesn’t matter if you’ve taken it down, Felicity!  Everyone has already seen it!  You were practically naked!”

Oliver chuckles and Felicity narrows her eyes dangerously.  He is the reason for this entire debacle and he knows it.  But instead of showing the least bit of remorse for the troubles he’s caused, her stupidly sexy boyfriend is proud of himself.  And really – she thinks – he should be.  Those hands of his really are magical.

“Did you hear a word I just said to you?” Caitlin practically shouts.

Her shoulders slump and she closes her eyes, dropping her head to the tabletop.

“Yes, I heard you.  Look, Caitlin, I –“

“Let me talk to him.”

She frowns into the cool oak surface beneath her head.

“What?”

“Oliver.  Let me talk to him.  This is his fault.”

When she sits up and looks at the man across from her, she sees his bravado falter.  He can still hear Caitlin.  He knows he’s in trouble.  It is her turn to grin smugly as she holds out her phone.

He sighs dramatically and takes the device from her.

“Doctor Snow.”


	5. Sex scene

**Prompt:  Write a sex scene you wouldn’t show your mom.**

**A/N: Ok.  This one was… challenging.  Not because I would really let my mom read any sex scene I’ve written, but because I’ve written sex scenes before so I had to come up with an actual challenge.  So my best friend suggested I write something I’d never let her read.  This was a lot harder than the thing with my mom.**

**This is not for the … faint of heart.  It is taboo.  Actually there are two taboo topics addressed in the fic and it is most definitely an M rating.  Pleased heed the warning!  This is SMUT.  Through and through, straight up SMUT.  And TABOO smut at that.  So yeah, you’ve been warned.**

It’s new for her, this incredibly intimate thing that’s happening between them right now.  She has never had a partner willing to do this and Oliver… hell, he’d been more than willing.  He’d been eager.

A jolt of pleasure rocks her, shooting up her spine, and she falls a little further into the counter.

She catches a glimpse of them in the mirror over the bathroom sink.  Oliver’s dark eyes are watching her, searching her expression, requesting permission to continue.  She licks her lips, the carnal appreciation in his eyes stokes the fire already burning her from the inside out.  She forces herself to relax before nodding.  He eases the thick black plug further into her, stretching the tight ring of muscle.  The bite of pain is expected but she sucks a startled breath through her teeth.

“Breathe, baby.”

His voice is gentle and she does as he tells her before pushing back against the foreign object invading her ass.  When the thickest part breaches the muscle, she gasps, her heart racing, and presses her warm cheek to the cool granite counter.

Oliver’s hand strokes her bottom, his calloused fingers nudging the flat head of the butt plug tucked between her cheeks.

“You okay?”

He is standing beside her, as naked as she is, his hard cock throbbing where it rests at her hip.

“Mm-hmm.”

It’s all she can manage at the moment.  Her entire body is tingling, one big ball of sensation.  The plug was small, the smallest one she’d been able to find, but situated so tightly inside of her, it feels huge.  It leaves her feeling full.  Full and bereft all at the same time because even though her ass is full, her pussy is not.  And she really, really needs it to be.

She reaches for him, her fingers closing around his hot flesh, stroking his length once, twice, twisting a little on the up stroke.

He grunts, pumping his hips against her grip.

“Fuck.”

He bites out the word, his hips still moving, and tugs gently on the plug.

A pleasured mumble escapes her, the word incoherent, as sensation bursts inside of her.  It feels so good, the short little tugs, and she thinks she may come from that alone.  When his free hand dips between her legs and his fingers find her clit hard and throbbing, she cries out.  The orgasm tears through her, setting off fireworks behind her closed eyelids and she loses feeling in her legs.

But he’s there , arm tight around her waist, keeping her off the floor.  The fingers at her hip are sticky on her skin, evidence of how incredibly aroused she is by the toy she’d introduced into their bedroom… well, in this case, bathroom.  She wants to tell him how amazing she feels, how wonderfully full and sated she is, but she can’t form a coherent sentence.

When her legs are steady enough, his hand leaves her hip to push the hair form her face.  She flinches at the sight of blood on his fingers. 

He sees her reaction and leans across her back.  His cock is impossibly hard against her as he speaks into her ear.  Their eyes lock in the mirror.

“I want you.  Always.  I want this.  Trust me.”

She swallows hard, nodding.

Because while the anal play is new, it isn’t what he’d been so eager to give her.  No, what she had asked for – and what Oliver was all too happy to supply – was a thorough fucking while Mother Nature paid her a visit.

It’s an itch she’s been dying to scratch for years, pretty much since losing her virginity, but she’s never had a partner who hasn’t been completely squicked out by her monthly visitor.  And in the year that she and Oliver have been together, she’d just assumed that he – like the rest of them – found the idea of period sex too gross to even consider. 

Which is why she’d been forced to resort to the massaging showerhead in their bathroom.  And why she’d been caught red-handed (no pun intended) by Oliver mid-orgasm.  And why a long – somewhat awkward – conversation about how much she liked sex (which he knew, duh) and how horny she was on her period had followed.  She hadn’t expected to see desire flare hot and hard at her admission, hadn’t expected him to step into the shower with her and help her finish the moment he’d inadvertently interrupted.

But she’d been at the end of her cycle then and they hadn’t had the opportunity to really scratch that itch until now.  Three and a half weeks later.  On the first full day of her cycle.  First full day that she was really feeling everything.

His fingers are there again, stroking her clit, spreading around the moisture that has begun to run down her thighs.  She rocks back into him, grinding against his palm, seeking pressure.  She needs more.

“Oliver.”

It is a plea, soft and broken, but she doesn’t need to say more.

Two thick fingers plunge deep, the action drawing a hoarse cry from her lips.  She presses back, chasing his hand, urging him deeper, as his thumb presses the plug in her ass.

She is gasping, her body quivering, as she scrambles for purchase on the smooth granite beneath her chest.  Her stomach clenches, a dull twist of pain, but the pleasure his hooked fingers wring from her counters the ache.

Almost there.  She’s almost there.  She can feel it building, feel the way her skin tingles, her nerves coming alive, her core tightening.  She is standing on the edge, ready for the free-fall, when his hand disappears.

She whimpers at the loss of contact, almost able to ignore the rush of warmth that gushes from her cunt when he pulls away, but the visual is wiped from her mind almost immediately.  Because before she can think too hard about how disgusting she must look, he’s there, his body behind her, his cock sliding so deep inside of her wet channel that she can’t breathe.

“Fuck!”

It leaves her a broken, desperate wail.  He’s big, stretching her, pushing her to her limits and beyond, and she belatedly realizes that he never removed the butt plug.  The fullness is coming at her from all sides and she can’t catch her breath.  It aches but beyond the ache is the sharp rush of pleasure and the second he moves inside of her, the pleasure breaks and she’s crying out.  This orgasm is ten times more intense than the first, so much so that without Oliver behind her, she would definitely be on the floor, this time unconscious.  His hands are on her stomach, lifting her, pulling her until she is on her tip-toes, her back to his chest, and the new angle rips another wave of pure pleasure from her body.

His hips are moving, thrusting hard and deep, the movements quick, and she knows it won’t be long before he finds his own release.  Watching them in the mirror, Oliver’s face buried in her shoulder, her own flushed, sends her chasing after her third orgasm.  It’s there, she can practically taste it, wave after wave of electricity skittering along every nerve.

“Touch yourself.”

His command is gruff and spoken against her naked shoulder.  She doesn’t hesitate.  She watches the path of her hand in the mirror, watches it glide across her flat abdomen, along smooth skin until her fingers dip into her soaked cunt and skim across her swollen clit.  Her body jerks in his arms and it only takes two hard passes across the bundle of nerves for the third explosion to detonate.  And then he’s with her, filling her with his seed, pressing deep as he growls her name into her flesh.

For a few endless moments they’re both frozen, weightless in their pleasure, and then he’s pulling her down with him as he drops to the floor.  She curls herself into his lap, trying not to wince at the uncomfortable pull of the plug, and smirks.

_Holy shit._

 


	6. Anniversary

**Prompt: Tenth Anniversary**

He is staring out at the ocean as the sun sinks past the horizon. 

The warm body bundled up in the middle of his chest wiggles and he settles his hand across her back.  His lips graze the top of her head.

The day has been quiet, peaceful, and he knows good and well that his wife planned it that way.  Just as she’d planned a ‘spontaneous’ weekend getaway that just so happened to coincide with the tenth anniversary.

His breath leaves him on a quiet sigh, ruffling the dark blond head of hair that rests over his heart.

Ten years ago his life had changed.  For better or for worse he’s still not sure.  He wouldn’t wish his experiences on anyone, not even his worst enemies.  And of those, he’s got plenty.  He has lost so many people, his mother and father, Shado, Yao Fei, Tommy and even Slade.  So many lives taken because of him, because of the man he’d become on that island.  On the island and after.  Because he’d come home changed.  He’d let those five years shape him.

A cool hand sifts through his hair as she rounds his chair.  The smile on her face is soft and full of understanding, causing love for her to blossom in his chest.  It’s always there, of course, it has been for a long time now.

“Thank you for today,” he murmurs, “I needed this.  The quiet.”

“I thought you might.”

She reaches out and skims her fingers over their daughter’s head, adoration in her blue eyes.

“Thea called.  I told her you were putting Sophie to bed.  You should call her later.”

He nods, capturing her hand before she can pull it away and lifts it to his lips.

He has had all day to reflect on the last ten years of his life.  He wouldn’t want anyone to face what he has, to live through the hell that he barely survived, but he cannot imagine what his life would be like had events not unfolded in the way that they had.  He would never have met her.  He would never have known this peace, this love.  He wouldn’t have found his happiness.

“Do you want me to take her?”

He shakes his head, “No, not yet.”

He makes room for her on the lounger where he’s stretched out, careful of their baby girl using him as a pillow, and pulls Felicity to his side.  She curls up, her head on his free shoulder, and lays her hand over his where it still rests across Sophie’s little body.

“Love you.”

“I love you, too, Oliver.”

Waves break against the shore, the sound soothing.  It is secluded, their little getaway, and he takes a moment to appreciate its beauty before letting his eyes slide closed.

He says a silent prayer of thanks.  To God.  To the universe.  To whoever is listening.  He is thankful for her, for them, for this chance at happiness that he’s been given.  It is a chance he has no intention of squandering.


	7. Camping

****

**Prompt: A 24-hour camping trip with any one you want.**

**A/N:** I decided to do this as a quick little thing, and not necessarily camping.  More like roughing it because they’re stranded…

 **Hour 1:** Felicity: **mockingly** _It’ll be fun._ Do you not know me at all??

 **Hour 2:** Felicity: Frack!  My ankle!  God, why am I wearing these shoes?

 **Hour 3:** Roy: Blondie, what the hell is that?

 **Hour 4:** Felicity: Turn around, Roy!  Give a girl some privacy!

 **Hour 5:** Roy: It’s not my fault your coordinates were off!

 **Hour 6:** Roy: Oliver is gonna kill me.

 **Hour 7:** Felicity: Roy?

                Roy: Yeah?

                Felicity: We don’t speak of this.  Ever.

 **Hour 8:** Roy: Blondie?

                Felicity: Hmm?

                Roy: Roll over or something.

                Felicity: Why?

                Roy: Your snoring is attracting wildlife.

 **Hour 12:** Felicity: Roy?

                Roy: Mm.

                Felicity: I have to pee.

                Roy: So?

                Felicity: It’s dark.

                Roy: Are you kidding me?

                Felicity: It’s DARK.

                Roy: **grumbling** Fine.

 **Hour 17:** Felicity: Why are we cuddling?  Why are you so close?  Move!  Move, Roy!  Back away!

 **Hour 18:** Roy: Is that your stomach?  Damn, what’s in there?  A bear?

 **Hour 19:** Felicity: I’m sorry, you want me to help you do what?

 **Hour 20:** Felicity: You owe me a new tablet.

                Roy: I know.

                Felicity: The latest model.  All the upgrades.

                Roy: I know.

                Felicity: And you have to tell Oliver what happened to the last one.

                Roy: Shit.

 **Hour 21:** Felicity: Is it poisonous?!?

                Roy: How the hell am I supposed to know?

                Felicity: Oliver would know!

                Roy: Yeah, well, your boyfriend is Tarzan.  Not all of us can be Tarzan.

 **Hour 22:** Roy: Do I even want to know what you’re doing up there?

                Felicity: Probably not.

 **Hour 23:** Felicity: If Oliver doesn’t get here soon, there’s only going to be one of us left to find!

 **Hour 24:** Roy: Oh thank God!

                Felicity: Oliver!

                Oliver: Are you alright?  What happened to your ankle?  You were supposed to keep her safe!

                Roy: She’s alive, isn’t she?  And hey, I’m the one who was in danger!  She tried to kill me!


	8. Fortune Teller

**Prompt: The fortune teller in the window.**

She stops him with a sharp tug on his shirtsleeve and he pauses mid-step.  He follows her line of sight, frowning.

“Really?”

She shrugs, “Will you?”

She bats her big blue eyes up at him and he knows he doesn’t stand a chance of getting out of this.  He simply sighs and rolls his eye in acquiescence.  She ‘drags’ him off toward the dark tent, practically skipping in her excitement.

They find the fortune teller – Madam Luna – waiting patiently in the dimly lit space.  There’s a small round table, draped in thick purple fabric, and he almost turns away at the sight of the crystal ball.  The woman there is old enough to be his grandmother and the heavy robes she wears look like they’re smothering her.

“Welcome.  I have been expecting you.  Please, sit.”

He casts a skeptical look in Felicity’s direction but the look of joy on her face silences the protests swimming around in his head.

Madam Luna begins their session with general observations, he notes.  Little bits of their lives, their personalities, that anyone with a knack for reading people would’ve been able to glean.  He doesn’t buy into the mysticism even when she lays it on thick for Felicity’s benefit.  When the old woman asks for Felicity’s hand, he clenches his fists in his lap to keep from hauling her out of there.  He doesn’t know why but his discomfort is strong.  She isn’t a threat to him, that he knows, but he doesn’t like the way that she’s clutching Felicity’s hand.

“You have a secret,” she says suddenly, her eyes flicking back and forth between them, “One that you have yet to share with anyone else.  You’ve been worrying about how they will respond, your friends and families.  You are unsure of how accepting they will be of this impulsive decision that you’ve made.”

Felicity peeks at him from the corner of her eye, the hand not currently clutched by the old woman coming to settle on his knee.

“They will be overjoyed.  At least one will be.  The others… they will come around.  But your sister will be glad to welcome someone else into your family.  It has become so small, your family.”

He sits rigidly in his seat, staring at a spot over the woman’s head as the memories slam into him.  His father, his mother, Tommy.  All of the people he’s lost in the last eight years.

Felicity squeezes his knee, sliding a twenty dollar bill across the table as she stands.  He follows her lead, his movements stiff, and they are just stepping back out onto the carnival’s midway when Madam Luna calls out one last thing.

“Green.”

They both stop, turning at the same time to find her watching them.

“Excuse me?”

She lifts one shoulder in a non-committal shrug, “The color green, it fills your future, blurs the edges a little.  It seems awfully important.”

 

 


	9. Smell

**Prompt: The smell of a place you love.**

She presses her nose into his pillow and inhales deeply.

The heady scent of cedar and bergamot, mixed with a hint of something that is distinctly Oliver, fills her head and she relaxes even further into their bed.

She hears a soft chuckle behind her and, peeking through the curtain of her hair, watches him round the foot of the bed.  He sits beside her, the towel around his waist the only thing he wears, and he brushes the long blond strands from her face.  The scent rolling off of him is stronger than what clings to his pillow.

“Did you just sniff my pillow?” he teases.

She shrugs, her cheeks warm.

“Smells like you.”

The indulgent smile that her confession draws from him ebbs her embarrassment.

It’s a smell she loves, one she has grown accustomed to in recent months, and she’s begun to notice that it lingers on her own skin no matter how long they’ve been apart.  Every time she catches a whiff of it, each time she breathes it in, she is reminded of the comfort that she has found in his arms, of the pleasure that his warm body gives her.  It reminds her of home, of love, of family.  Because Oliver is all of those things to her and she will forever love the smell of cedar and bergamot and that little something that is distinctly the man that she loves.


	10. Paris

**Prompt: That day in Paris.**

For the first time since they arrived in Paris, the city streets are empty, the pace of life slow, and she relishes the quiet.

Oliver’s arm is linked with hers and she bundles herself further into her heavy wool coat even as the natural heat of his body warms her.

Thick, heavy snow falls around them, so dense that it obscures the scene before her.  They are crossing Champ de Mars, approaching the tower from the west, but the structure is barely visible.  They are practically alone, most of the other visitors to the iconic city seeking refuge in the comfort of their hotel rooms.  But she hadn’t been deterred by a lot of snow and the icy chill in the air.

It is their last day in the city and they’ve hardly scene any of it.  Her time had been occupied by official Palmer Tech business and while Oliver had been free to do as he’d pleased during the day, he’d chosen to stay by her side, acting as both moral support and her unofficial bodyguard.  Their nights had mostly consisted of late dinners and quiet baths in their exquisite suite.  She’d been too tired to do much else.  And Oliver had understood.  He’d fed her and he’d pampered her before cradling her in his arms when the exhaustion finally caught up to her.

But now they had one day – one full day – to take in as much of it as possible.  So when they’d woken to find five inches of fresh powder on the balcony of their room and the sky bright with snow that continued to fall, they’d dressed in their warmest clothes and headed out.

She stops a few yards from the base of the tower and draws her phone from her pocket.  She snaps a few photos, unable to fight the grin that splits her face at the insanely beautiful sight before her.  There’s something magical about Paris in the winter and she thinks that it could very well be her new favorite place.

She turns to share the thought with Oliver and finds him staring at her openly, a look of adoration warming his face and her heart in the same moment.  He reaches for her, plucking her phone gently from her hands and tucking it securely in her pocket.  He holds both of her gloved hands in his, keeping them secure between their bodies, and she blinks up at him.  There’s a shift between them, an unseen force that draws them closer together, and again she can’t help but think of magic.

“I have never seen anything as beautiful as you in this moment,” he whispers, the soft compliment settling inside of her and causing her heart to race.

“You’ve saved my life, Felicity.  You’ve given me a reason to live.  I love you.”

She blinks the moisture from her eyes, “I love you, too.”

When he drops to his knees in the snow, not releasing his hold on her hands, she draws in a startled breath.

“I’ve never know happiness like this.  I’ve never had this kind of peace in my life.  You’ve given me that.  And I’d like to spend the rest of my life showing you the same happiness, giving you the same peace.  Felicity Megan Smoak, will you marry me?”

Her heart is galloping in her chest, the sensation making speech difficult, and she tugs on his hands until he’s standing in front of her.  She throws her arms around his neck as his come up to wrap around her back.  Her answer is a breath against the exposed skin of his throat.

“Yes.”


	11. Hour by hour

**Prompt: Your day, hour by hour.**

**7 a.m.**

He wakes to the sound of his wife’s voice, soft and musical, as if filters through the baby monitor on the nightstand.  He glances at the clock beside it, slipping from their bed and padding down the hall to the nursery.  He leans against the door frame and watches Felicity change their little girl.  His wife smiles up at him and he smiles back.  There is a lightness inside of him that has only intensified in the months since Sophie’s birth and for that, he is immensely grateful.

**8 a.m.**

Felicity is rushing around the kitchen, hopping around on one foot while attempting to wedge the other into her impossibly high heels.  The scene makes the baby giggle and he shakes his head in amusement.

It is moments like this one that make him fall even more in love with her.  She is real.  Beautiful, brilliant, strong and compassionate.  But she is clumsy and impatient and a little uncoordinated.  They aren’t flaws, they are simply parts of her that he finds endearing.

**9 a.m.**

Sophie’s pack-n-play, with its pink and grey elephant print, occupies a small corner of the foundry and he knows that if he were to peek at her over his shoulder, he would find her standing at the side, chubby little fingers clutching the net to keep her upright.  She likes to watch him train, whether with the dummy or the tire or the salmon ladder, her big blue eyes follow him around the room in fascination. 

When he finally does look her way, he grins.

_Like mother, like daughter._

**10 a.m.**

She’s sound asleep in her carseat when Felicity calls.

“How’s your day going?” he asks, pulling into the parking lot of their favorite market.

She sighs, “It’s been busy.  And pointless.  And I’d much rather be home with you and Sophie than dealing with these ridiculous investor meetings.  I mean, that’s a job for the CFO, isn’t it?  I can designate that job to the CFO, right?  I mean, I am the owner of the company!”

He chuckles as she rambles and casts a glance at the baby in the backseat.

If someone had told him ten years ago that this would be his life, he would’ve scoffed.  Hell, even five years ago he never would’ve believed that he’d have ended up here.

**11 a.m.**

Sophie is clinging to his jacket where she sits on his hip and she is yammering in his ear.  He kisses her nose just as John’s front door opens.

“Hey man.”

“Hey.”

Sophie’s squeal of delight at the sight of her Uncle John nearly takes out his eardrum and it’s a good thing that his friend has the reflexes of an experienced father because he suddenly has an armful of excited toddler.  They both laugh.

“You’re sure that this is okay?” he questions.

John rolls his eyes, “Oliver, I think I can manage your daughter for a couple of days.  This isn’t the first time I’ve babysat for your guys, you know.”

He presses a quick kiss to the top of Sophie’s head and moves to the stairs.

**12 p.m.**

The elevator doors open on the executive floor of Queen Incorporated and Felicity’s assistant spots him immediately.  Jerry waves him into the outer office.

“She’s on a call now but as soon as she’s done, she’s all yours.  Her schedule is clear until Monday afternoon.”

“Thanks, Jerry, I owe you.”

**1 p.m.**

They stop at a little café for lunch on their way out of town.  She asks him repeatedly where they’re going but he shakes his head and kisses her knuckles and remains tight-lipped.  They are back in the car and heading west.  Toward the coast, the ocean, fresh air.  And the little cottage that they’d called home that first summer.

**3 p.m.**

She complains that she needs a bathroom for almost twenty minutes before they find a gas station.  He takes a minute to call John while she’s inside.  They trust Digg and Lyla with Sophie more than any of their friends but it’s a rare occasion that they leave her with them for more than a few hours, let alone for a couple of days.

Felicity slides back into the car just as he hangs up.  She turns to him with a grin and presses something into his palm. 

He makes the rest of the drive with his wife’s panties tucked into his pocket.

**6 p.m.**

They pull up in front of the cottage and he cuts the engine.  Felicity is silent beside him and when he turns to face her, her expression is worrisome.

“Oliver…”

Her voice cracks and there are suddenly tears in her eyes.  He pulls her into his arms and she cries against his shoulder.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

**7 p.m.**

Dinner is a quiet affair on the small deck of the cabin with the light of the setting sun bathing them in its warm glow.

They’ve been reminiscing about that summer since pulling into the drive.  It was an experience that he isn’t likely to forget.  Those five months changed them, changed him, and he can’t imagine who he would be if she hadn’t agreed to join him.  He committed himself to her in those months, to their relationship, and even though people have come in and out of their lives who have tested that commitment, their bond has never wavered.  They’re stronger together than they ever were apart.

**8 p.m.**

She holds his hand as they walk the beach, the cool ocean water lapping at their bare feet.

“Do you think you’ll want more?” she murmurs.

“More what?”

“Kids.  Do you think you’ll want another baby someday?”

He tugs gently on her hand and draws her to a stop beside him.

“I want everything with you,” he affirms, cradling her face in his hands, “I want a family, as big or as small as we can manage.  If that means it’s just the three of us, I’m okay with that.  And if we have five more, well, I’m okay with that, too.”

She snorts her derision, “Five?  Who do you think is going to be delivering this gaggle of children that you want, Queen?  Because it sure as heck isn’t going to be me.”

**9 p.m.**

They had been in the middle of cleaning up their dinner dishes when the song had come on the radio.  She’d hummed the melody under her breath and something about her voice and the sway of her hips had made his heart thrum in his chest.  Somehow she had ended up in his arms.

So here they are, three songs later, slow dancing in the tiny kitchen of their rented cottage.  He holds her tight, keeping her head tucked beneath his chin, and lets the music carry them.

**10 p.m.**

He carries her from the kitchen into the bedroom.  Her arms are around his neck, her ankles locked across the small of his back, and he cannot stop kissing her.  The feel of her in his arms is intoxicating, a drug he’s been addicted to from the first hit, and as he lays her back on the bed, he follows her down.

Her hands are on his skin, sliding up his sides as she frees him of his shirt.  The garment hits the floor only a minute before hers and then they’re lot.  Lost in each other, in the way they love one another, in the happiness that come with finding the one person in the world who loves you and wants you in spite of your flaws, your mistakes.  The one person who sees you for who you really are.

For Oliver, that person is Felicity, has always been Felicity and will always be her.  Only her.

 


	12. Word of the Day

**Prompt:** Go to the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day website and write a story based on that word.

 **Today’s word is:** doppelganger -  a person who closely resembles another living person.

She ran into his back when he stopped suddenly, his large body blocking her path.  Not to mention her view of whatever had startled him so much that he’d put on the brakes without warning.

Felicity huffed, shoving her now-disheveled hair from her face and gave Oliver’s shoulder a not-so-gentle push.

“Hello?  Earth to Oliver?” she grumbled, “There’s another person here, you know.  One who happens to be carrying a baby in her arms.  Are you going to move or what?”

She stepped around him with every intention of carrying on toward the beach, Sophie grinning broadly up at her, only to halt her own movements at the sight of the young woman in front of them.

Long dark hair framed a pale face.  She was tall, taller than Felicity, certainly, and her slim figure was accentuated by the tiny black bikini she wore.  Her eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses and even though Felicity was almost positive that the woman in front of them was not Helena Bertanelli, it still took a long moment of staring for the realization to sink in.

“It’s not her,” he muttered from behind her, “It can’t be.  She’s –“

Felicity nodded, “I know.  I know, Oliver.  Helena is gone, she can’t hurt us anymore.”

She felt his large hand settle against the small of her back in a move that was meant to reassure them both and she welcomed it. 

“I know they say everyone has a doppelganger somewhere in the world but who knew that we’d find Helena’s twin on vacation?”

He shrugged, the hand on her back urging her forward, and as they moved past the young woman, she was relieved when the girl laughed, smiling at her companion, and Felicity knew for certain that Helena Bertanelli really hadn’t come back from the dead.

 


	13. Red

**Prompt: What a character wearing red is thinking.**

_He’s never been this happy._

The thought flits through her mind as she watches her brother bound down the stairs of their newly requisitioned Arrow Cave.  Not that they’re allowed to call it that.

He has a wide grin on his face as he clears the last step, his eyes locked on Felicity’s petite frame where she sits at the bank of computers.  Her almost sister-in-law doesn’t turn at their arrival but there is no doubt in Thea’s mind that the other woman is highly aware of her brother’s approach.

She pushes back the red leather hood she’s been donning for months and scrapes her fingers through her hair while she continues to observe their interaction.

Thea is aware of Laurel behind her and can’t help wondering what her brother’s ex thinks of the man that he’s become.  The man that he is now that he’s happily settled with the one and only Felicity Smoak.

“They’re great together,” Laurel comments softly.

Thea isn’t surprised that she’d been caught observing the two of them.  She hadn’t exactly been trying to hide it.  But she hadn’t actually expected Laurel to address it.

“I’ve never seen Ollie like this,” she admits, not looking at Laurel, “I know that you loved him, once upon a time, but this…”

Laurel sets her hand on Thea’s shoulder and she looks up into the Canary’s smiling eyes, still framed by her black mask.

“What I had with Ollie can’t even begin to compare to that, Thea.  I know that and, truthfully, I’m okay with it.  I was a little jealous at first.  He’s a different person now, a better man, and I thought that it wasn’t fair that she got him and I didn’t.   But that was before I really knew Felicity.  And it was when I still thought of him as Ollie.  He’s not that guy anymore.  Oliver is in love with Felicity because she’s the person who has accepted him for who he is from the first moment she met him.”

Thea lets that sink in for a moment before her eyes find the two of them again.  He stands behind Felicity’s chair, hands on her shoulders, and she rests her head against him, looking up into his face.  She can’t hear the conversation taking place between them but it’s okay.  She has learned to let them have their private moments.  They deserve those moments more than anyone.

“She accepted him when he came home from the island in a way that none of us could,” Thea agrees, “We all expected him to be the same Ollie that left.”

Laurel shrugs, “It’s what we wanted but Oliver… he couldn’t be that person anymore, too much had changed.  And Felicity didn’t know him before.  She only knew this version of him and she accepted him, flaws and all.”

Thea watches Laurel cross the room to the space they’ve reserved in the far corner as a changing room and she wonders if her friend realizes how much she’s changed, too.  They all have.  They’ve each assumed a new identity, have become more than they were prior to Oliver’s return from purgatory, and in that moment she hopes that she and Laurel will be as lucky as Ollie.


	14. Lyric

**Prompt: Put your iPod on shuffle, write down the lyric of the first song that comes on and use it as an opening line.**

**“How’d I wind up here again?  It’s like I’m always getting blood on my hands.” – Three Days Grace, _Tell Me Why_**

“How’d I wind up here again?  It’s like – it’s like I’m always getting blood on my hands,” he muttered, “I don’t – I don’t know how to escape this.”

She’s sitting beside him on the floor of the foundry and for the first time in a long time, she’s afraid to touch him.

He’s breaking before her eyes and she doesn’t know how to hold him together.  She doesn’t know because she isn’t Felicity.  She isn’t his light, his life.  No one can keep Oliver sane, stable, the way that Felicity does and Laurel can’t even begin to try.  Not this time.  Not when the reason for his happiness is also the reason for his fall.  No one can help him.  Not unless she wakes up.  Not _until_ she wakes up.  Because she will wake up.

“This isn’t your fault, Oliver,” she offers softly, knowing full well the words won’t penetrate the fog.

He shakes his head.

“Darkh targeted her because of me.  He went after her because of me.”

“Don’t.  Don’t do this.  Felicity wouldn’t want this, Oliver.”

His misery collides suddenly with fury and he explodes to his feet, crossing the room in three long strides.  He snatches his bow from its case, heading toward the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she calls.

“To end this.”


	15. Snowbound

**Prompt: Life in a snowbound cabin.**

He watches the sparkle light her eyes, watches the way the frigid winter air catches her hair and tosses the strands wildly around her face.

The night’s unexpected snow storm has left the road impassible; leaving them stranded almost a hundred miles from home.  The plan had been to get in and out quickly.  To do routine surveillance, plant a tracking device on their target and make their way back to the comforts of Star City.  But – as usual – nothing about their evening had gone to plan and they had somehow ended up here.  In a one-room hunting cabin that had seen better days.

He steps up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist, and rests his chin on her shoulder.  She leans back against him.

“I don’t think we’re leaving here today,” he notes.

She nods but says nothing.  They don’t get snow like this back in the city and he knows that she’s overwhelmed by the beauty of it.  It is crisp and clean and pristine and he admires it right along with her.  It’s been a long time since he’s seen something as wonderful and pure as a blanket of snow in an open field.

Felicity shivers and he draws her further into his body, warming her.

“Let’s go back inside,” he suggests, shielding her from a strong gust of wind that stirs up the flakes in front of them.

They move back into the cabin’s main room and she steps out of her boots before settling on the threadbare sofa opposite the fireplace.  He discards his own boots by the door and goes to work building a fire to ward off the chill in the room.

When the flames are blazing, licking up the sides of the logs piled in the hearth, he situates himself beside her and tugs her into his side.  It only takes a moment with her for him to relax into the cushions.

“I’ve missed this.”

He doesn’t have to ask.  He knows what she means.  He’s missed it, too.  The quiet.  The solitude.  The knowledge that it’s just the two of them.  They’ve been living with Thea in the loft for too long and he misses the intimacy that having a place if their own instilled.

“It’s quiet here.  I miss the quiet.  Everything back home is so – it’s just so loud.”

He presses his lips to her temple and holds on tighter.

“We could stay.”

Felicity snorts, “We don’t have any food, Oliver.  I mean, there are at least four more protein bars in my bag but those won’t last long.”

He shrugs, “I’ve survived with far less.  We’d manage.”

Her shoulders shake against him as she laughs but she’s shaking her head and he knows that she isn’t even considering it.  He doesn’t want to tell her that he was only partially kidding.  That the idea of spending the rest of their lives alone, together but alone, appeals to him more than it should.  He loves his family and he loves their friends but there’s something intricately real about the woman in his arms and the love he feels for her.  Everything else about his life anymore feels disjointed.  She is the only thing that makes sense.

“John will send out a search party in the morning if we don’t come back,” she continues, seemingly oblivious to his train of thought, “And I’ve got a huge presentation at the office on Monday and Thea has a girls’ night planned which, truthfully, is a little frightening.  But I promised her I’d be there and I don’t want to disappoint her because I know she’s got a lot going on and –“

“Felicity.”

She takes a deep breath and turns to him, grimacing.

“For some reason, I thought I’d gotten over that.”

It’s his turn to laugh and he presses a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“I like it.”

Her grimace morphs into a slow grin and her big blue eyes blink up at him from behind her glasses.

“I know.”

There’s something about the innocent expression on her face that causes his heart to race and the blood in his veins to heat.  And the light flush to her cheeks tells him she’s having the same reaction.  His hands capture her face then and she turns her body into his, meeting his mouth as he bends to kiss her.

 


End file.
